Farawayistan

Category: Bikepacking

Biking Bali

Bali is probably not the first destination that comes to mind when planning a cycling trip. Most people only know Bali as a hip and trendy beach destination. But this Indonesian paradise island has so much more to offer than cocktails at the beach and selfies at rice terraces. The rich Hindu culture, nature’s beauty around every corner, friendly locals, amazing gastronomy and the steepest climbs you’ll ever ride.

We arrived on Bali when the Covid-19 pandemic was about to hit the world hard. The situation on the island was still relatively calm. We had big plans to discover every region; hike-a-bike the active volcanos, cruise along the coast line and explore the undiscovered northern part. In reality we only went out for day trips and a few overnighters.

We stopped touring

The Indonesian government hadn’t proclaimed a lockdown, but it felt wrong to freely travel around. With genuine biketouring out of the question we still felt extremely lucky to be able to go out and ride our bicycles in the area around our base, Ubud. Riding in this area made us fall in love with the island. It’s pretty much a perfect cycling destination if you ask us.

Riding on Bali

Riding on Bali is extremely challenging. The tarmac may be perfect everywhere but temperatures are boiling and the humidity is insane. Monsoon rain showers are a common thing. They come out of nowhere and leave you completely drenched. We weren’t complaining since it’s the perfect way to cool down.

Since Bali is a volcanic island the roads are ridiculously steep. Most roads are north-south oriented, however there are east-west connections too. Riding these usually means conquering deep gorges and fighting your way back up on inclines well over 20 percent.

The scenery makes every drop of sweat worthwhile. Starting at black colored volcanic sand at the beach you’ll pass bright green rice paddies and eventually make it to higher altitudes with magnificent sights on active volcanos.

Local cycling community

There is a small cycling community on Bali. Especially in the early morning we saw young kids cruising around on mountain bikes. Further inland you can find some pretty hardcore bike parks located between the lava fields. Pickup trucks with downhill bikes in the back are a common sight. In the lively capital of Denpasar there is a cool bike shop called The Bike Shop Bali. They carry a lot of cool brands and have quality materials if you might need spare parts.

Warungs everywhere

Another great thing about cycling on Bali is the abundance of warungs (local shops). Gado Gado, Nasi Goreng, Satay, fresh coconuts and of course Kopi Bali. Every local warung can fix you up, and usually for a very decent price too. A good thing, because cycling on Bali burns a lot of calories and refueling is super easy this way. Indonesian and Balinese food in particular is amazing.

Perfect little Ubud

Ubud was the perfect base for us. Getting lost in the small streets of the family compounds where the aromatic smell of sweet incense fill your senses. It’s central and within five minutes you are surrounded by rice paddies. The layers upon layers of green rice terraces are broken by weaving palm trees. Ubud also tends to be a few degrees cooler than the concrete jungle of the southern beach towns.

What bike to bring

There are roads for every type of bike on Bali. Take your full suspension mountain bike on a spin in one of the bike parks. Race up the steepest climbs on your road bike or pack your panniers as light as possible and tour around the island as soon as it’s possible again.

The amazing scenery combined with the excellent craftsmanship gave us a real creative boost. Taking some time away from touring also provided us with the opportunity to think about how we want to continue our travels. Instead of viewing this pandemic as a blockage on our way we seek new paths. Our new path is now leading us to Sweden, but to Bali we will someday definitely return.

Follow all our adventures on Instagram.

16 May 2020
A day in the life of a bicycle tourer

You may wonder what an average day on the road looks like, when you’re on a long trip like ours. It depends a lot on the country you’re in of course, the circumstances vary. But typically a day in the life of a bicycle tourer goes something like this.

05:30 AM – Time to wake up

I wake up from the cries of my stomach. ‘Feed me, feed me’ it yells. Robin isn’t an early riser like myself, so I give him a few nudges to wake up too. He growls a little too and turns around to get a few more minutes of sleep.

Before I open the zipper of our tent to start making breakfast, I get my morning exercise in: stuffing the down sleeping bag back in the compression bag. This way there’s a little more room in the tent so I can find my clothes and put them on.

06:00 AM – Breakfast time

I pull out the oatmeal which we’ve already mixed with raisins, nuts and maybe some other dried fruits we’ve found along the way. There is also milk powder in the mix, so we can use water to make our cyclist’s brekkie. Just have to filter it first, because we were probably too tired or lazy to do it yesterday evening.

By now Robin is up too. That’s good, he’s better at lighting the stove. Besides if he does it, I can stay in the tent a little longer. We’re going to be outside all day, and the morning sun is still working hard at heating the place up.

While Robin cooks the oats I put away his sleeping bag and start to deflate and roll up our sleeping mats. I get dressed and by then, Robin comes with our breakfast which we usually eat inside the tent. We don’t have chairs with us and eating breakfast while standing isn’t very convenient.

Take a look at our cooking gear to see what we use!

07:00 AM – Pack up our gear

We almost always argue about who has to do the dishes and sometimes we both win. Then we don’t do them at all and make it a problem for later. Together we pack up the rest of our stuff. The tent is always the last part, which we fold together. Everyone has a unique folding technique for the huba huba, but we make up something new every day.

08:00 AM – Ready for today’s ride

Before we take off, we check our camp site one last time to make sure we don’t leave any traces. All trash from last night’s dinner comes with in a baggie which we dispose when we find a trash can. We try to use as little as plastic as possible, because we know that even when we throw it in a designated trash can, it will most likely still end up in the river. Very frustrating, but at least it has made us very aware of the amount of plastic we use.

10:30 AM – Second breakfast

By now we are probably running low on water so we keep our eyes open for a tap. In many countries we got offered fruit, tea and all kinds of food when we asked if we could fill up by someone’s house. The generosity of people is something that kept amazing me.

We always accepted whatever they were offering, because we were also getting hungry again. Time for second breakfast! And a nice chat with people in a language we don’t speak.

The first ten kilometres are always the hardest for me. I’m a cyclist who needs to warm up. If we want to cycle 80 kilometres and I feel like rubbish for the first eight it’s a difficult mindset to snap out of. Luckily there is always something to distract me along the way. And if there isn’t I listen to a podcast or some music and talk to Robin. We somehow never run out of stuff to talk about, must be because we see so many new things every single day.

There are so many elements you have to factor in to determine how many kilometers we can get in before lunch. The surface, the elevation, yesterday’s ride, the wind, it all has a big effect. Some days we were happy with 15 kilometers and some days we strived for at least 100.

01:00 PM – Longer lunchbreak

But as soon as one of us starts to get grumpy, we know we have to take a break. We take some shorter breaks along the way, to take a picture or maybe buy a soda for some extra energy. Snickers breaks play an important part in our life too. But those are always relatively short.

For our lunch break we take more time, usually about an hour or so. We use the tarp of our tent as a picnic blanket. I pull out the pot and… oh shit, we forgot. One of us still had to clean out the pot, which is ten times as hard now, since it has completely dried in. But one of us always steps up and gets it over with.

We are one of the lucky few who thought to bring along an egg container, so it’s usually scrambled eggs on bread and some fruit and veggies to go along with it.

02:00 PM – Just a little longer

At lunch we try to determine our finish line for the day. We check out the rest of the route on Komoot so we can see the elevation profile and the types of surfaces. Komoot is our preferred app to plan our route, together with maps.me. In cities we prefer navigating with Google maps, but for that we need a local SIM card with data.

We usually have one, so after we’ve finished our lunch we relax for about fifteen minutes. We check Instagram to see where the rest of the cycling community is at. Are we going to cross paths? We love meeting other cyclists on the road. We also share the pictures we might have taken that morning.

Wondering what camera we use, check it out here!

04:00 PM – Searching a camp site

The search for a new camp site begins at least an hour before sunset. If we haven’t seen anything to our liking on iOverlander we find something ourselves. I’m usually quite tired by now and don’t really care if the camp site is well hidden or away from the traffic sounds. I could literally set up camp next to the road.

Robin is a lot better at this, so he usually takes the lead here. It’s always interesting to see how this goes when you cycle in a group. Who takes the lead and for how long do they get to keep it. Everyone is tired and hungry by now, so the true personalities come out. How long do the extremely picky camp site searchers get to find that ultimate spot to pitch our tents. So far no one has gotten hurt.

05:00 PM – Setting up camp

After a long day of cycling I usually want to get out of my bib shorts as soon as we’ve put up our tent. We take turns changing inside the tent and wash ourselves with baby wipes. Found a camp site with running water, a river for example? Then we take a skinny dip in the usually ice cold water. With our cooking pot we create a bucket shower and rinse of a days worth of dirt and sweat.

06:00 PM – Dinner time

We cook up a simple meal on our stove with some lentils and rice and eat it either in our tent if it’s cold or find a nice rock to sit on when it’s still warm outside. The argument about the dishes takes place again, but whoever did it at lunch probably gets away this time.

09:00 PM – Nightfall

When it gets dark we cozy up in our tent and talk about what we saw that day. Sometimes we like to tune out and listen to a podcast or watch something on Netflix. But as soon as the starts come out, so do we for one last time that day. We look up to the sky and realize how lucky we are to be here.

Follow all our adventures on Instagram.

6 April 2020
Cycling in Nepal – Bikepacking the Annapurna Circuit Trek

‘Haven’t you had enough after Georgia?’ Josh asked laughingly, when we told him about our plan of bikepacking the Annapurna Circuit Trek (ACT). One of the world’s most beautiful high altitude hiking trails. It winds through some of the world’s tallest mountains, with Annapurna I as the highest at 8.091 meter (26,545 feet).

But we’d come pretty far since our first attempt at a bikepacking route in the high Georgian Caucasus. With a full touring set-up we set off on the worst roads and steepest climbs. Of course we were never able to complete this route with our heavy set-up. It also might have been a bit ambitious for our first week bicycle touring ever. Even for the Pamir we had our doubts. Were we strong enough? Was it going to be too hard? And to be fair, sometimes it was. Then we just changed our plan. We took an extra rest day, scored a ride to the top of a pass or simply cried a little and then got on with it.

This time we were ready

But this time we felt a lot more sure about ourselves. One thing we had learned from our Georgian adventure is that weight matters. We stripped our bikes to the minimum. Robin had a 14 liter saddle bag and Sabina just a 7,5 liter frame bag. Somehow we had to fit enough warm clothes in our bags for the freezing temperatures at higher altitude. The highest point of the route is the famous Thorong La Pass at 5.416 meters (17,769 feet).

The total elevation gain of the entire circuit is more than 10.000 meter (32,810 ft) over just 380 kilometer (236 miles). That’s a lot of high numbers, and not many bicycle tourists who’ve completed this trail before us.

The adventurers bikepacking the Annapurna Circuit Trek

We were still hanging out with Ross and Paxton (Ugly Armadillo) and had somehow managed to convince them that riding this trek was a good idea. In Pokhara we found two new friends wo had the same crazy idea as us. Sam from Wales (CycleTouringSam) and Silas from Switzerland. With our brand new gang of six we were ready to take on this Himalayan adventure.

Sara and Andreas (Project Pedal Further) cycled the Annapurna Circuit a few weeks before we did. After some helpful tips about the route and what to pack we were ready to hit the gravel. See the route below if you’re planning on bikepacking the Annapurna Circuit Trek yourself.

Day 1: Pokhara (1.400m) to Sundarbazar (1.406m)

55 km, 1.195m, 4h 24m

Our gang was ready to finally hit the road. We rode on the main road for a couple of kilometers before we could take a turn, leading us to the small road along Begnas Lake. The lake was hidden to us behind a thick blanket of fog. But we weren’t too bothered, since we were so excited to finally start our adventure after a lot of preparations.

After a few kilometers Silas’ front tyre felt wobbly so he stopped to put in more air. He had gotten Ross’ old mountainbike tyre (Sam had the other one), but once the pressure was higher it didn’t quite fit in the fork any more. The only solution was too let some air out again, just enough to find the sweet spot where the tyre wouldn’t rub anymore. It slowed him down a bit, but that was fine on our behalf, since he’s a very fast cyclist anyway.

We rode through fields and small villages and had our first taste of some pretty steep climbs on dirt roads. Every now and then we would pass roadworks with big loud generators and excavators. We had to carry our bikes over the construction site and all the workers would start to giggle when we told them we were planning to cycle over the Throng La pass.

Our initial plan was to reach Besisahar on day one, but with all the delays we opted to stop in a small village called Sundarbazar, about 15 kilometers earlier. At the hotel Silas found out he also had to fix his rear tyre, just a simple flat this time.

Bikepacking the Annapurna Circuit Trek – Day 2: Sundarbazar (1.406m) to Syange (1.119m)

44 km, 1.476m, 4h 22m

The fog from the first day had cleared, so for the first time we had a good view on where we would soon ride. The Himalayas with their snow capped high peaks called upon us all. Besishahar was the last town we could stock up for a fair price. We bought a bunch of chocolate cookies, peanut butter and some dried fruits. Prices on the circuit are sky-high, and it rises simultaneously with the altitude. Understandable, since it’s not an easy task to get the goods up.

When we rode out of Besishahar we heard a loud ‘pop’. It was Silas’ rear tube (again). It almost seemed as this ride was doomed for Silas’. The previous three(!) times he had started the circuit, he had had to return due to mechanical issues with his bicycle. So when we all waited to get our permits checked, Silas’ raced by hoping they wouldn’t come after him. The officer asked us if he was our friend. We lied through out teeth and said we had never seen him before.

By now we were all praying for Silas to get through this whole trip with us. The same day the zipper of his small saddlebag broke, causing him to lose some tools. Plus the hook of his pannier broke off. He looked absolutely defeated, so we all cheered him on to stay motivated. That’s probably the best about cycling in a bigger group. You may slow each other down a bit, but you always have an entire cheer squad with you.

We cycled mostly on the road, which was a mix of gravel and some asphalt from time to time. It was going up all day, which was pretty though but definitely doable. When we reached the guesthouse our routine negotiation began. Thanks to Sabina’s strong negotiating skills we almost never had to pay for the room as long as we all had dinner at the guesthouse. The meals also got more expensive the higher we got. A dahl bat (typical Nepali dish with rice, lentil curry and vegetable curry) is usually around 100 rupees, here it was already 300 rupees.

Bikepacking the Annapurna Circuit Trek – Day 3: Syange (1.119m) to Dharapani (1.943m)

20 km, 1.042m, 2h 45m

From Syange we could choose an almost vertical muddy jeep trail or a narrow alley straight through the village and onto a hiking trail. Easy pick. It wasn’t long before we reached the road, which was even paved. Soon enough we could see why. The road clung against the winding rock face and rose a few hundred meters across the cliff. Most of us had to walk and even that was a strenuous task. At some point the tarmac made place for gravel again and even motor bikes couldn’t ride here. Them too had to push their heavy bikes uphill.

Along the way we were rewarded with beautiful waterfalls and a lovely hot spring. To reach it we had to walk down a narrow rocky staircase, but the water was a treat for our already sore muscles. When we arrived at our guest house for the day we all took even more care for us muscles, with some group yoga and stretches.

Bikepacking the Annapurna Circuit Trek – Day 4: Dharapani (1.943m) to Chame (2.630m)

17 km, 927m, 2h 32m

After Dharapani came the next checkpoint. And soon enough the environment started to change. The style of the houses changed a bit, and we saw the first wall with prayer wheels. Here houses were made of stone and everyone seemed to be preparing for winter. Locals were repairing their houses and chopping wood. Nature also changed drastically. Leaf forest made place for pine forrest and the vegetation was much thicker here. Since we had been climbing and climbing, we could see the tree line and the massive boulders rising above it. We even got a glimpse of the mighty Manaslu.

Just before Chame we passed a makeshift medical checkpoint. We all had our bodyworks checked. We were soon reaching the 3.000 meter mark, and from there you really start to feel the effects of the altitude. Luckily all our oxygen levels were superb and so was everyone’s blood pressure. The doc gave us all the clear to continue climbing.

It was a relatively short day, so we had some time to explore Chame. It’s a beautiful little old town, with some small shops and even a real coffeeshop. Cuddled up around the stove we enjoyed our cuppa together with some yak cheese. A combination that weirdly enough worked. Ross and Paxton bargained for some extra warm clothes in the shops and Sam went large on more yak cheese.

Day 5: Chame (2.630m) to Manang (3.530m)

30 km, 1.146m, 3h 39m

In the morning we planned to head to a local eatery for a budget proof breakfast. Sam had to fix something on his bike so he was a bit behind. We cycled past a pack of dogs, where one was barking viciously at a motor cyclist. We passed at a safe distance, but Sam hadn’t noticed the dog. Normally the dogs in Nepal don’t harm cyclists, but this one bit Sam in the leg as he walked past.

He had a rabies shot, but even then you still need to get the whole course of vaccinations. As luck would have it, Chame had a small hospital and this was the only town on this side of the pass where they had the vaccine in stock. It took some time for the doctor to arrive so Silas did a very professional job of dressing Sam’s wound. It looked more like a cut or a graze than a bite mark, so the doctor wrote ‘alleged’ dog bite on the form much to Sam’s displeasement. He felt pretty sure about exactly what had just happened to him.

As Sam was being taken care of, us and Paxton took a head start. Paxton was pretty annoyed by the bad road conditions. And it was hard work for us too. Without Sam, Silas and Ross we could cycle more in our own pace, with Robin in the lead. There was a grueling set of switchbacks over loose rocks and sand. Hikers were now going faster than us.

Afterwards came a downhill section over some very comfortable single track. That picked us all right up. We stopped for tea and a snack in Pisang, and just as we were about to leave Sam joined us. Ross and Silas had taken a detour through higher Pisang, following a mountain bike trail.

Just as the route on Komoot had predicted, the last part to Manang was nearly flat. It only got better, when we saw the first baked goods in the windows of the European style bakery’s. This felt like heaven. Chocolate croissants and fresh coffee right in the middle of the magnificent Himalaya’s. Prices were sky-high as well, but everyone was in for a treat so it was worth every single rupee.

Bikepacking the Annapurna Circuit Trek – Day 6 & 7: Manang (3.530m)

Manang was the perfect base for an acclimatization hike. There were a few treks to choose from, and the whole group split up for two days. Ross and Paxton hiked to the Ice lake, Silas cycled to Tilicho lake and Sam mostly relaxed in his room. We hiked to the Praken Gompa at nearly 4.000 meter to visit the Lama and receive a blessing to safely cross the Throng La pass.

In the evening everyone would sit around the fire place together, playing games and meeting other travelers. It was so terribly cold at this altitude and there was no heating in the rooms. We would warm our hands with the stones, that laid on the fire stove. Showering had to be done in daytime, since the water pipes would freeze solid, and not defrost until early in the afternoon. Nevertheless, it was a beautiful place to spend two days and recharge for the highest section of our trek.

Bikepacking the Annapurna Circuit Trek – Day 8: Manang (3.530m) to Yak Kharka (4.018m)

9 km, 411m, 1h 27m

Once we got above the 3.500 meter line, we agreed to not climb more than 500 meters per day. Sam had to ride back to Chame to get a follow-up shot after his dog bite. He and Silas would cycle down and back up to Yak Kharka all on the same day. We had a really short ride and even arrived before lunch.

Manang is the end of the road, so for the first part we had to carry our bikes over stairs and push up a very steep hill. But after that the trail was relatively easy. We could cycle most of it, and we passed a lot of hikers. They were all in disbelieve that we were going to cycle over the pass. They were also astonished by how little stuff we carried, compared to their huge backpacks. We were mostly wondering what the hell they could possibly all have in there.

In Manang we had met a group of mountain bikers, all on full suspension bikes and with porters to carry their stuff. Hell, they even had someone who cleaned their bikes! We met them again in Yak Kharka, and it was pretty funny to see their shiny cool bikes nicely lined up in comparison to our dirty and worn steel touring bikes dumped against the opposite wall. It both works we guess.

Day 9: Yak Kharka (4.018m) to Thorung Phedi (4.420m)

6 km, 313m, 1h 18m

Birthday cake for breakfast, because it was Ross’ 28th birthday! We all got two big slices but the surprise on Ross’ face was the biggest treat. Sabina woke up not feeling well due to the altitude. But the medicine we had brought worked pretty fast, so we could continue cycling after our healthy breakfast.

It was getting colder and colder, and some parts of the trail were covered in ice. It was pretty tricky to walk (read: slide) over it with a loaded touring bike. We all made it without landing on our butts and the rest of the track was about 30 percent cycling and 70 percent pushing. We had to pass a dangerous landslide area, where you could absolutely not stop to pause. The altitude was effecting our breathing so it was pretty brutal to push ahead. But seeing the abyss next to you and all the loose stones above you, was enough motivation to push through.

Once we had reached Thorung Phedi, we had a quick lunch and unloaded most stuff from our bikes. The next day we would go over the pass. It is too hard to do it all in one day, so we decided we would push our bikes up as far as we could get them today. At this altitude it’s also better to sleep lower than you have been that day, so it functioned as our acclimatization hike too.

The path is extremely steep from the very beginning, and we steadily worked our way up through a series of switchbacks. For every ten steps we had to take a pause and catch our breath. Unbelievably though, we still passed some hikers who were also struggling with the lack of oxygen in the thin air. We made it about a kilometer past high camp and locked our bikes up for the night. The sun had set behind the mountains and our fingers and lips were turning blue whilst we quickly but carefully walked back to our tea house.

Bikepacking the Annapurna Circuit Trek – Day 10: Thorung Phedi (4.420m) to Muktinath (3.800m)

21 km, 950m, 5h 8m

Most hikers start extremely early at 4am. They do so to avoid getting caught in the wind at the pass. The wind could bring all kinds of weather, but snow is what everyone dreads most. We decided to take our chances since we didn’t feel like freezing our asses off in the middle of the night and hiking in the dark. At 6am we packed our stuff and carried it back up to our solid frozen bicycles. The ‘long push’ had begun.

After the bridge there was one steep section, but the rest was quite gradual. This doesn’t mean it was easy, since there still was a lot of snow from a few days before and breathing was near to impossible. Sabina tried to play some music on her phone, but whilst taking it out of her pocket the battery immediately died because of the cold.

We had a major setback when we realized stuff had been stolen from our bikes during the night. Both our bib shorts were gone, plus Sabina’s arm warmers and some tools (even cookies). It’s just stuff, but it was so demotivating to have someone do you unjust when you are trying to accomplish something really big.

We tried to focus on the beauty of our environment and it did take our minds of it. Especially when we saw the first prayer flags waving in the distance. The otherwise completely white landscape was suddenly filled with beautiful bright colors from the hundreds of flags attached to the sign marking the highest point of the pass.

With our bike on one hand and holding each others hands with the other we walked the last part together. Both with tears of joy in our eyes. We had actually made it. Thorung La, five thousand, four hundred sixteen meters high. The highest hiking trail in the world. And we did it on our bikes.

After a lot of ego shots with the congratulation board we started our descend. Cycling was out of the question, it was way too steep. This side of the mountain luckily wasn’t covered in snow. Silas and Ross rode some parts, but Silas had to pay for it when we went over the edge. He was extremely lucky it wasn’t very high, but his bike didn’t survive the crash. The derailleur had completely snapped off. Going down he didn’t have much need for his drivetrain anyway, so he still rolled down most of it.

Paxton, Sam and us were much more cautious and carefully walked down slowly. At one point we could choose to continue on the narrow hiking trail or a rocky jeep track. We hoped the big rocks would soon turn into something rideable, but with our skinny tires we still had to walk the entire zigzagging road. Somewhere we missed a turn and we made a whole extra loop in the valley around Muktinath before we finally reached our destination of the day.

That afternoon we kept alternating between feeling excited and exhausted. After reuniting with Ross and Silas we celebrated our accomplishment with some exorbitantly priced plates of fries.

Day 11: Muktinath (3.800m) to Jomsom (2.713m)

21 km, 128m, 1h 20m

From the touristy village of Muktinath, we still had a long way back to Pokhara. We expected road conditions similar to the way up, so we were quite surprised when we suddenly found ourselves on a beautiful silky smooth set of asphalt switchbacks. It is still Nepal, so of course this didn’t last for very long. Soon enough we found ourselves back on washboard and sand, with busses racing by.

One of the busses picked up a rock with its wheels and smashed it into Robin’s front wheel and launched him over his bike. Luckily all the spokes held up, and after wiping off some dust and setting the handlebar straight again we were on our way without any real damage but a bruised ego.

We had planned to only have a lunch break in Jomsom, but we all had so many chores so we decided it would be the place we’d spend the night. We had to go to the police station to report our stolen goods, Silas’ wanted to see if he could fix his bike and Sam had to get the next rabies shot in this town the following day.

Silas’ went looking for a bike shop on Ross’ bike without any success. ‘What has he done now!’ we all thought when he came back carrying Ross’ bike instead of riding with a terribly guilty look on his face. He had managed to get the chain stuck and it took tree guys and 30 minutes to get it undone. Poor Silas, he felt so bad. His luck had really run out.

Bikepacking the Annapurna Circuit Trek – Day 12: Jomsom (2.713m) to Tatopani (1.189m)

47 km, 399m, 4h 9m

The following morning we waved Silas’ off when he and his broke bike got on the bus to Pokhara. A twelve+ hour ride over dirt roads pestered by landslides and road constructions. Sam even jokingly said he could race him to Pokhara and still win, hadn’t he had to get his injection. He was probably right. But this time he did actually make it over the pass, so we think his journey bikepacking the Annapurna Circuit Trek was still a success!

The first part of the road was uninspiring, grey boring buildings, road constructions, all on a brown dug-out road. It got more fun when we could take hiking trails trough small villages and cross the steel suspension bridges. We could take a massive shortcut through a dry riverbed and crossed a lot of small streams, which was heaps of fun too.

For the night we found a budget hotel with a room which was a bit unique for our (already not so high) standard. The room (5mx3m) was completely crammed with a total of seven beds, basically just turning the entire room into one big bed. It was big enough for all of us, it was cheap and it was quite hilarious so obviously we took it. And to be fair, we all slept like babies.

Bikepacking the Annapurna Circuit Trek – Day 13: Tatopani (1.189m) to Nayapul (1.070m)

58 km, 850m, 4h 28m

We rode past a roaring gorge with a suspension bridge above it and we couldn’t resist walking over it just for fun. The river its speed really showed how fast we were descending. The water carved its way straight through a narrow split in the rocks about fifty meters below us. The bridge also made for a great spot to see how the road we had been following was carved right into the cliff.

The last two days felt like riding back into civilization. Prices of our beloved masala chai en chowmein (noodle dish) turned back to normal. By now all our brakes were squeaking and you could hear the dirt in our chains grinding. Our bicycles needed a deep cleanse as soon as possible. Sabina’s chain even kept falling off when she tried to change gears. With only about one kilometer to go, we were not stopping to fix it. When it happened for the sixth time, she was ready to throw her bike into the river. Just one more day left to Pokhara. Only fifty kilometers and a small climb. Nothing really compared to what we had already done.

Bikepacking the Annapurna Circuit Trek – Day 14: Nayapul (1.070m) to Pokhara (1.400m)

44 km, 756m, 3h 24m

The last ride, the last climb and the last shitty road (for now). We drove straight ‘home’ to our Airbnb in Pokhara. We washed the dirt from our bodies, dropped our smelly clothes off at laundry and gave our bikes a good wash at the car wash. Sam, Paxton, Ross and us went to our favorite restaurant and Silas’ joined us later on for a big tub of ice cream. We had the whole gang back together for one last night.

After a couple days of rest Sam, Paxton and Ross rode off to Kathmandu. Silas had already made his way towards India to catch a train all the way back to Europe. We still had one more adventure waiting for us here in Nepal. We were trading our bikes for hiking boots. Our next Himalayan mission? The Manaslu Circuit trek.

Follow all our adventures on Instagram.

15 February 2020
Nepali tigers and more dangerous drivers

Nepal is a land of discovery with rich ancient cultures and eight of the ten highest mountains in the world. But we were not the first to discover this poor and simultaneously wealthy country. Tourism is the largest industry, pumping big bucks in the economy, but bicycle tourists are still quite rare.

Immediately as we had crossed the Indian-Nepali border we could notice a big difference. The constant honking wasn’t as apparent anymore. The road however, had taken a turn for the worse. There was no safe shoulder for us to cycle on anymore and cars were taking each other over like maniacs. Missing small children and entire family’s on motors by an inch every single time.

Arm’s length distance

To make sure cars pass us at a safe distance, we sometimes stick out our arm to the side when we feel a car is going to get too close. This usually directs them to pass at a safer distance, but here in Nepal it lead us straight to a police station.

An overtaking car raced by us so close, that it hit Robin making the side mirror smack into the side of the car. The car immediately made a u-turn and drove us of the road to force us to stop. The mirror had been damaged and they wanted us to pay. Still high on adrenaline from the clash, that could have been a serious life threatening accident, Robin threw quite the fit, and they decided to take their losses.

On trial in Nepal

At least that’s what we thought, until we realized we were being followed by men on motorcycles. They too forced us to stop, and wouldn’t let us continue. Luckily a local helped us, and told them to let us go. They kept following us however, so we decided we needed help from the police.

At the hotel we called the police, and they wanted us to follow them to the nearby station. A whole gathering had already formed of at least twenty men, sitting in a circle on chairs under a tree and even more surrounding the circle. There were three empty seats. One for Robin, one for Sabina and one for Ross, who would act as our ‘witness’.

A man in his fifties introduced himself as the ‘resident’ of the town. Next to him was another man, in one of the most tackiest suits we have ever seen. He was introduced as the owner of the car, apparently it was a lease. `The driver himself wasn’t at the meeting. The resident explained, the gathering was meant to find a solution, for what had happened. He had been told that Robin had punched the mirror of the car, causing it to break. We explained our side of the story, and that we were not going to pay for the damages. He was lucky we weren’t pressing charges for almost killing us!

Do we need help?

This kept going back and forth for half an hour or so, and we didn’t really feel like it was going anywhere. Only when we mentioned we would call our embassy for legal support, the situation changed drastically. The resident was a bit mad that we were threatening him with this. But threatening? Who was threatened in this whole situation. We were sitting here in a foreign country, with now about sixty or seventy people surrounding us, all speaking and shouting in a language we don’t understand. ‘Maybe it was time to call for help!’, we told him.

He understood. After that there was a lot of fierce negotiating in Nepali amongst the resident, the owner and some other people of whom we still had no idea who they were. Then all of a sudden we were told we could leave. The owner had wiped the smug look of his face. The losses were his to pay for. The police officers escorted us back to our hotel, and that was that. That’s how legal matters are solved in Nepal.

Bardia National Park

We were glad to see that the scenery was changing. The road side shops made place for jungle and the traffic and population was becoming less and less dense. We were entering the region of Bardia National Park . Most people visit Chitwan National Park, due to its proximity to Pokhara and Kathmandu. So Bardia is a little less crowded.

It’s said that chances of spotting a tiger are also bigger in Bardia, and that’s exactly what we wanted to do. We pitched our tents in the jungle garden of a small resort in the park. Our guide prepared us for our walking safari we would do the next day. He showed us a map of where we were going. He pointed at a region and said ‘Here we don’t go anymore, you know. Because of what happened.’

Tiger attacks

We didn’t for a matter of fact. So he explained: ‘An elephant rider was killed just a few days ago, when he was cutting grass for his elephant. There is an old tiger that regularly attacks people’. Good to know! But he insisted we would be fine. It was more elephant bulls and rhino’s we needed to worry about. And never mind the leopards that visit town every night. A bit scared for the upcoming day and night, we went to sleep in our tent. Just before we turned the lights down, the guides who were camping next to us for our safety shouted through the bushes ‘If anything, make big sound’. You bet we would make a big sound.

The next morning we assembled with our guides, armed with nothing more than a wooden stick. As soon as the gates of the park opened we walked in full of adrenaline from our excitement. We spotted deer, saw beautiful tropical birds, a rhino in the river from a distance and kept seeing fresh tiger tracks. The tigers themselves however, hidden from sight.

A tiger’s tush

We waited for what seemed to be hours in a watch tower and Robin possibly saw a tigers behind far away, as it just walked into the high grass. After that, we tracked the tigers full of hope for a better glimpse. But unfortunately this was all we were gonna get. On our search we did see a few big crocodiles sunbathing in the river, monkeys slinging from tree to tree and all these different kinds of birds, singing and warning each other for danger that lays ahead. It was an amazing day. No tigers but definitely a lot of thrills.

Our surprise was big, when out of the blue Josh appears when we were having breakfast the next day. He was supposed to be cycling in India, not in Nepal. His wild idea of taking a boat down the Ganges had made place for a final ride to Nepal, from where he would fly home. We even starred in his coming home-video inspired by Forrest Gump.

Butwal, Tansen, Pokhara

Josh joined us and Ross and Paxton for two days until we turned North towards Pokhara. Josh would ride straight to Kathmandu. We said our final goodbyes for the fourth time asking ourselves where we would run into him next. It’s great how you can meet people you already know in the most random places, totally unexpected. You’re never really alone for a long time.

The ride from Butwal to Pokhara has to be one of our favorites so far. At first the road seemed like hell. A narrow dusty sand road, packed with massive trucks roaring past the abyss. But later the road became wider, paved and the trucks seemed to disappear. The climbs were also getting feistier and rolled up and down past green valleys and fields. Tansen was our favorite town on route to Pokhara. The town lays higher than the rest of the route and requires some extra climbing to reach. But the steep streets and lovely view made it all worthwhile.

Our next adventure

After Tansen we enjoyed the scenery for every single mile. But we were also looking forward to reach Pokhara and rest in our Airbnb. The feeling we got, when we for the first time could see the city and its adjoining Phewa lake was indescribable.

By now we had also convinced ourselves and Ross and Paxton that we were going to take on a massive adventure. From Pokhara we were going to cycle the Annapurna circuit. A once in a lifetime experience, but one that also kept us hunkering for more.

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1 February 2020
India: Chaos and five bicycles stuck in the middle

India is not the first country that comes to mind on a bicycle tour around the world. But we were drawn to the culture, the cuisine and the warm climate. We were looking forward to all the chaos, which somehow always seems to work out exactly how it was supposed to. We’re just not sure if our ears were ready for all that honking.

There are two logical options to continue travel overland after the Pamir Highway. Either one involves a difficult Chinese visa application, and then either East trough Xinjiang or Southwards over the Karakorum Highway to Pakistan. For the first option you can be sure to have constant police surveillance, guarding you from seeing the labor camps meant to ‘reeducate’ the Uyghurs, a muslim minority in China.

Hotels will often not allow foreigners and from what we’ve seen from others everything seems complicated. Pakistan was very high on our wishlist. This option was however also off the table. The Karakorum had long been closed this time of the year. Too much snow and subzero temperatures.

Let’s go to India

Sabina was drawn to India and convinced Robin with the prospect of a culinary Indian feast. Something he could really use, after losing his fair share of pounds on the Pamir. The e-visa was relatively cheap and the flight was too. We could fly direct from Almaty, so less handling meaning less risk of breaking or losing the bicycles on the flight. It also borders Nepal, a country where we also have a mission to accomplish (but we’ll tell you about that later).

Eating our way into Hauz Khas Village

Full of excitement we hoisted the two boxes containing our bicycles on top of a small taxi minivan. We had just touched down in Delhi and besides from it being a lot warmer and busier, the culture shock we had been warned for didn’t hit us just yet. We had booked a hostel in Hauz Khas Village. A hip urban neighborhood, home to trendy bars, cafes and restaurants. The center bans cars, making it a safe haven in otherwise loud and hectic Delhi.

The real culture shock was reserved for our taste buds. We hadn’t eaten anything remotely spicy in over five months and our mouths were not ready for the spicy Indian cuisine. Without question, this was something we had to get used to quickly, because even when it hurt, the taste was miraculous. Our friend Josh, whom we had met first on the cargo ship to Kazakhstan joined us for dinner and introduced us to the glorious tali’s and other Indian dishes.

Delhi’s splendor

We spend a few days immersing ourselves in the intense city. We pushed our way trough the crowd at the bazar in Old Delhi, coughing at the spice market. We got countless of selfie requests at the Red Fort and payed fifteen times the price locals pay to get in. Sabina got surrounded by a horde of men wanting to take her picture at the Big mosque, when Robin left her for a second to take some photo’s. We rode around the city on the metro, shopped till we dropped. But mostly we ate and we ate, and then we ate some more.

Two Ugly Armadillo’s

Ross and Paxton had also reached out to us, as they were in Delhi too. They had been cycling the world for over two years and had just returned from a family visit in their hometown in the States. We agreed to meet and talked about our plans in India.

Actually, we mostly talked about the lacking of our plan. Our initial idea was to leave the bikes for a while and travel India by train. But we hadn’t cycled for a few weeks and we were itching to start again. Ross and Paxton were planning to cycle to Nepal and from there on to Darjeeling and then Myanmar. We too wanted to cycle to Nepal, since a blog from Gone Bikepacking about cycling the Annapurna region had sparked our interest. We also wanted to hike the Manaslu Circuit and we realized we had to get there in time because winter was coming rapidly.

India had to wait. We enjoyed hanging out with Ross and Pax and spent a few days with them at the loveliest and most interesting Warmshowers host Shivani. She was so kind to open up her beautiful apartment which also happened to be in Hauz Khas Village. We guessed it would take us about one or two weeks to get from Delhi to Pokhara, the base for all Himalayan adventures.

The Odd-Even scheme

There is no country but India, where Robin’s former occupation would be thought of as being funny. But try telling you’re an air quality engineer in Delhi and you will definitely get some giggles. Delhi is one of the most polluted cities in the world. We were here right after Diwali, a festival with a lot of fireworks. This time of year farmers also burn their crops. Increasing the levels of fine dust and smog even more.

According to aqicn.org, a real-time air quality index, fine dust (PM10) was at 999 micrograms/m3. We believe the values might have even been higher since there was only room for three digits on the website. For comparison, the value limit in the European Union is 40 micrograms/m3 and the safety limit according to the World Health Organization is 20 micrograms/m3.

The government was taking some precautions. One of them was the Odd-Even scheme. Under this, vehicles starting with odd number license plates will not be allowed one day and even numbers will not be allowed on the road the next. This meant that there was only (supposed to be) half the traffic on the busy roads. It gave us extra courage that cycling out of Delhi wasn’t a complete mental suicide mission.

Horn if you watch porn

Navigating the city’s winding roads was a challenge and Komoot wasn’t on our side, sending us over stairs and briefly onto the highway of which we were immediately send away. Here-fore we had to cross about eight lanes of speeding traffic with four loaded touring bikes and a raised road divider, but at least the traffic officer lead us trough the first half. After these mishaps Paxton decisively took the lead in navigating. She is the cartographer after all.

At a rather speedy pace she lead us to a highway better suited for us cyclists. It had a shoulder big enough for us to safely cycle on. The road was also being used by scooters, so here we actually felt fine. If you put your music on loud enough you could kind of block the constant horning, of which Josh told us he tried to discourage it by strapping a sign on his bike saying ‘Horn if you masturbate’. Of course it didn’t work, it only got worse. Maybe a little to be expected, since India is the 3rd-largest porn watcher according to Pornhub.

Through Uttar Pradesh and Uttarakhand

Immediately on the first day Paxton’s bike was starting to show massive failures. At one point the entire pedal even fell off. A quick fix with a steel pin and a bolt got us to our first overnight, where she miraculously enough found a decent new crank.

After approximately 350 kilometers in four days, of which two we were joined by colorful French-Dutch cyclist Kevin we reached border town Banbassa. We had crossed two states, Uttar Pradesh and Uttarakhand. Along the way we feasted on Indian treats as Jalebi’s, lassi’s, sugar cane juice, but also savory snacks such as pani puri and samosa’s, always accompanied by a nice masala chai.

The Indian head wobble

When we first crossed the Ganges, out of nowhere came this big guy on a bicycle beautifully decorated with hand painted flowers, named Kevin. He too was cycling from Delhi to Nepal, on his way to a Vipassana course. He had been in India for a while now and had mastered the Indian head wobble completely. It had confused us many times before, even when we knew shaking your head directing the ear from one shoulder to another means yes. It looks like a cross between a nod and shake, but does it mean ‘yes’? Or, does it mean ‘no’? Or, even ‘maybe’?

Camping in the living

On the same day as we met Kevin we had already cycled a hundred kilometers when we wanted to find a hotel before dark. The only place we could find, was a five star resort and it was way out of our budget. Setting up camp in this crowded area was impossible. There was no way four people could go by unnoticed and we definitely didn’t want to sleep with a big group of Indians staring at us.

A man in a car pulled over, and he instructed us to cycle into his city. After going in the wrong direction he told us to follow him and stay at his house for the night. It took quite a while to finally reach it. Which was a bit scary since it was dark by now, but extremely busy and we were quite exhausted.

But we were happy we had found a place to sleep, especially given the fact he was taking in five people and their five bicycles! It wasn’t a very big house, but we could sleep on the couch and on our sleeping mats on the floor, covering the entire living room. His mother made us kebabs and dahl (lentils) and the next day we fought our way out trough the busy streets of this small congested city.

Cycling in India

The roads in India were surprisingly good. Yes it was busy and very loud. And yes we saw some bus, car and motor wrecks from what seem to had been terrible crashes. But as long as you follow the rule that busses and trucks alway have the right of way and they don’t need to look in their mirror, you are fine. Big beats small.

It isn’t the most interesting scenery however. The fields and shops are the only roadshow you get in this part of India. There are enough interesting figures on these roads and in these shops that cause for some amusement. Our favorite was a monkey stealing a bag of potato chips from a small shop, as we cycled by, and the angry shopkeepers face. Just priceless.

Cheeky monkeys

At the border crossing we had our own little dispute with a pack of cheeky macaques. Ross had a bag of peanuts on his bike, which he sadly have to forfeit. Macaques have a scary set of canines and when they his at you, you’ll gladly hand over whatever they are demanding. Our other goods we could secure, squirting the monkeys with our water bottles whenever they came to close again.

Otherwise the whole border process went quite smooth. We were happy to enter a new country, hopefully one that was a little less loud.

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25 January 2020
A hitchhikers guide to Kyrgyzstan (on a bike)
Sometimes you visit a city or a country and you just know you will be back one day. Kyrgyzstan was like that for us. We had seen and heard amazing stories of people bikepacking this rugged country. We had just missed the boat this year. It was October, so too late in the year to ride here.

A lot of passes were already closed, and our gear isn’t really made for winter camping. Nor are we. Also Sabina’s parents were visiting us soon in Almaty, Kazakhstan so we only had two weeks to cross the entire country.

Goodbye Osh

After a few days in Osh we rolled out of the city. On this trip we found that we really enjoy hitchhiking at times. We prefer it over public transport, not over cycling of course. It’s a fun challenge to find a ride and most drivers are extremely friendly and love the company.

With our bicycles it makes more sense to hitch with trucks. There’s enough space for the bikes and for us. The trucks drive for long distances and the cabin is usually very comfortable. Being higher than other cars, you can just stare out the window and get a great view of the country passing by you.
Our hitchhiking tips

Make sure the truck has enough time and place to pull aside where you want to get in.

Find a ride at a gas station or truckers restaurant.

See if you can get to the highway. There is more traffic with further destinations, so the chance of finding a ride is higher.

Learn how to say hitchhike in the local language. In Russian it’s avtostop.

Even when you’ve agreed on where you want to get out, keep an eye on the map. Miscommunication can happen easily, and you’ll end up in a completely different destination than intended.
Talking to truckers

From a small city outside Osh we hitchhiked to Bishkek. It was a bit harder to find a truck, but we ended up getting a lift from a gas truck. The bikes were hauled on the roof, and it worked just fine. By now we had learned picked up on some of the basic questions, so we were able to have somewhat of a conversation with our driver. It usually goes something like this.

Driver: Atkuda? (where are you from?)

Us: Gollandiya (The Netherlands).

Driver: Skol’ko tebe let? (how old are you?)

Us: Twenty-eight and twenty-nine (use fingers to show the numbers).

Driver: Vy zhenaty? While pointing at ring finger (are you married?)

Us: Da (yes). We aren’t but it’s just easier to say yes.

Driver: U vas yest’ deti? or just Deti? (Do you have children?)

Us: Net (no). Thinking oh boy here we go again.

Driver: Looking confused, obviously there’s something wrong with this couple, still gonna ask Pochemu? (why?)

About the money

Other questions we would get a lot were about money. What we did for a living, how much money we made. What does it cost to live in The Netherlands and what do you pay for rent. At first it felt a bit weird. Why do they want to know what we made? Are they scoping out if they can get something out of us, was in the back of our minds. But it was just pure interest. We have never felt unsafe, and when we offered to give money the driver almost always declined. Usually we offered to pay for food, that seemed to be more acceptable as payment.

Truckers lifestyle

If you’re lucky the driver has a good taste in music. This is actually never, so we counted our blessings on our radio-free ride to Bishkek. It was a long drive to Bishkek. Truck drivers are not allowed to drive at night in Kyrgyzstan, so we had to pull over for the night. The driver folded down an extra berth in the back of the cabin. We took the lower bunk and he the top. Who would’ve thought we would spend the night sharing, a cabin with a trucker at a gas station. We loved it even tough it was quite cramped.

The next day our driver even got us breakfast. A box of Chocopie’s, a spongy chocolate biscuit you find all over Asia. Not the healthiest, but hey, it’s the truckers lifestyle we’re livin’ now!

A few hours later we were right in the middle of the city. As we were unloading our stuff, a deranged man was looking at our stuff and shouted a question at us. ‘Are you spies?!’ Oh the lovely encounters we have, they keep amazing us.

Bishkek to Almaty

We only spend two nights in Bishkek and continued our journey to Almaty. There wasn’t a lot to do or see and we will most likely come back here next time we are in Kyrgyzstan. For now we just had some unhealthy junk food and prepared to cycle on towards country number seven, Kazakhstan.

It was a short ride to the border. The crossing went smooth too. On the bikes we could just jump the queue and pass all the cars waiting in line. Visa was free and on arrival, and of course just as all the other central asian countries, they stamped on the same page creating a neat little collection.

The first hundred kilometers after the border were nice. The road wasn’t too busy and the landscape was made up of wavy hills. The wind was playing it’s ever apparent part and grew stronger in the afternoon. We found a campsite that offered some cover after following a small road to some monument in the middle of nowhere.

Bad road, bad borsh

The upcoming day, the road became a bit of a bore. It’s a new road and the first part isn’t open-end, that part was fun. We had the fresh concrete all to ourselves and the traffic was still on the old narrow parallel road. Weirdest part about this road, was that there are no turns for a few hundred kilometers. It just goes on and on and on. Soon enough our fun ended and we had to join the busy traffic on the old pothole filled road.

We stopped for lunch at one of the restaurants and ordered some borsh (Russian style soup). Bad borsh as it turned out a few hours later. We discussed if we wanted to continue cycling or hitch another ride for the last part. As if the gods were listening in, just as we were getting ready to leave a couple truck drivers started talking to us and offered us a ride.

Almaty at last

We had found ourselves in a truck once again, and this time we didn’t even have to ask. The drivers companion, a small spaniel wasn’t too happy about this at first. After a while we finally gained its trust and he would carefully let us pet him. We had to stop outside the city, since trucks aren’t allowed in the city during the day. At this point the bad borsh also started kicking in for Sabina.

We said our goodbyes to the spaniel and his driver and cycled in to Almaty. A huge city. Not what you need when cramps and nausea have just gotten the better of you. Robin was leading the way in the now dark and busy city. We’ll spare you the details of the shunless toilet breaks, but let’s just say we were happy we had made it to our new home for the next chapter in our journey. It was time to park the bikes for a while and spend quality time with family in this surprisingly beautiful new country.

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11 January 2020
The Pamir Highway – Part IV

The last stretch of the Pamir Highway is as remote as it gets. Pamir cities Alitchur, Murghab and Karakol are most definitely not the reason to visit this region. We went here for the countless numbers of peaks painting the horizon. To cycle the seemingly never ending roads and challenge ourselves on one of the highest mountain passes in the world.

After a very cold night (temperatures drop to minus ten degrees celsius at night at this altitude) we wake up excited to start cycling on a real road again. Due to the arid environment, it was hard to find drinking water. When we’d almost ran out, we stopped a car to ask if they knew how far it would be to the next place to fill up. They immediately offered to fill our bottles with hot tea. That went perfect with our biscuits, and we had one of the most enjoyable cycling breaks ever at this beautiful lake.

Not a single fish in Alitchur

The next town we would pass was Alitchur. Town is a big name, it was more a collection of sad boxes where people live in. The place seemed deserted, but we found a place to fill our water bottles and a small restaurant at the end of the town. The Golden Fish, of course they didn’t offer fish. They served a pretty okay lagman (noodle soup) and microwaved but somehow still cold fries. Sabina had two plates and loved and hated it simultaneously.

Cycling to Murghab

Finding a campsite proved to be a challenge too. There wasn’t really anywhere you could find cover from the harsh wind and the passing trucks on the road. We found a literal hole in the ground, flattened the area and pitched our tent. At least we had some cover from the wind. Must’ve been quite the sight for cars and trucks passing by.

On our way to Murghab we cycled a day with a Dutch couple and we met Stefano from Italy. After having cycled alone for a while, it was a nice change to ride with others again. Stefano had bought his bike on the bazar in Samarkand and was making a documentary about his journey on the Pamir Highway. His bike broke down pretty much everyday, but he was still happy about it, since he thought it was a great way of meeting new people. Mostly bike mechanics, but still, people.

Saving the stove

Murghab has to be one of the weirdest places we’ve ever visited. It is famous for its container markers, but they didn’t really sell anything we wanted. We were craving fresh fruits and vegetables, but they had none of that. In Murghab we stayed in one of our favorite guesthouses of the whole Pamir. Tulgabek guesthouse wasn’t luxurious, the food wasn’t too special. But the owner was amazing, and the company was good too.

We rested for a day, worked a bit on the bikes and checked what was the matter with our stove. We couldn’t seem to get a real strong flame going as usual. At first we thought it was due to the altitude, but Liam, Renata and Karl, whom we met at the guesthouse, weren’t having this problem at all. After a deep clean, the problem still arose. Karl saved us out big time and gave us his extra fuel line, which luckily solved the problem.

Six snickering cyclists

Stocked up on Snickers we set of from Murghab as a group of six. After not even one kilometer we left Stefano and Renata behind us. They would catch up with us later we figured. The road seemed endless and there was nothing in sight but mountains. Unbelievable how remote this area was.

It was a relatively easy day of cycling, with one small climb. When we’d set up camp Renata and Stefano also arrived after a while. It was freezing cold, so everyone made their dinner quickly and got in their sleeping bag early. Except for Karl and Liam. They had bought old school bright colored toasty warm ski suits and were stoked they could finally use them. They looked hilarious.

The Ak-Baital Pass

There was one pass we had marked on our map immediately when we started. The Ak-Baital pass. At 4,655 metres (15,272 ft) it is the highest point of the Pamir Highway. Everyone stops to take a photo with the sign. And cycling it is very challenging due to the altitude. There is nearly 50 percent less oxygen available, and cycling uphill with a loaded bike is already hard with all oxygen available!

Telling a joke whilst cycling uphill is the worst thing you can do. Karl and Sabina found this out the hard way, when they couldn’t breathe due to laughing. Liam didn’t seem to be bothered by the lack of oxygen at all. He just raced up the hill as if it were nothing. We think it’s because his smokers lungs are used to oxygen deprivation. So unfair.

Oxygen deficiency

Our effort cycling up was rewarded. The snowcapped peaks surrounded us and the views on the other side of the pass were even more spectacular. We too had to stop for a photo-op with the sign of course, and after that we were on our way to Karakol. It was still a stretch and the wind had picked up. The good asphalt road had also made place for that crappy washboard again. About 25 kilometers before Karakol we caved and picked a spot for our tent. Liam was in desperate need of cigarettes, so they carried on in hope of finding a shop.

Cow dung shower

It was so terribly cold that night and we were both so exhausted. The next morning when we started cycling again we had a huge fight about nothing. The breathtaking surroundings added even more drama to our feelings. For what we’ve heard, this happens to everyone. It’s not easy when it happens. Emotions run high, but afterwards we always take time to try and understand each other. And after every lovers quarrel we seem to come out stronger than before.

We reached Karakol on each others good side again. The place itself was just like Murghab and Karakol. A collection of sad white boxes functioning as houses. We found a guesthouse, which was surprisingly nice. To keep out the cold, all walls had been covered by carpets. The bucket shower was nice and hot, heated by dried cow dung. The lake was beautiful and we went out on a mission to buy some food in this ghost town. Tomato sauce and spaghetti were the most nutritious items we could find. Boy, were we craving some fresh produce by now.

The finish line in sight

After Karakol we still had a fair amount of cycling to do, but it felt like we were so close to the finish of the Pamir Highway. We had to get to to a whole new country, Kyrgyzstan. And to get there we had a few 4000+ meter passes to overcome. The landscape between the second and the third pass had to be one of the most amazing we’ve had ever seen. The mountains were brightly colored. Nothing else but peaks as far as you could see, and basically no cars or trucks to share the road with. Complete solitude, except for more cyclists we’d met along the way.

At the end of our last day in Tajikistan, the wind was brutal and unforgiving. The washboard road gave us one good last farewell to a country that had challenged us in so many ways. Facing the last climb, the Kyzylart pass, Sabina was ready to give up. We could see our fellow cyclists struggling up the hill. Even with a 46 cassette they weren’t able to cycle up but had to push instead. We were so cold, so ready to be in Kyrgyzstan, so we carried on pushing uphill.

Yak yoghurt heaven

At the top of the pass, the border police took us in to their warm office and gave us candy. There were three offices we had to pass to show exactly the same documents. Oh Asian efficiency, aren’t you a charm. From here on we were promised downhill cycling. We knew there was a guesthouse between the borders and opted for a warm bed at a hospitable family instead of another cold night in our tent.

We watched The Lion King (hello childhood memories) on a small portable tv with their kid, whilst he played with a balloon most of the time and we watched the film. The mother offered us yak kefir for desert of which we were a bit hesitant to try. Robin was brave and Sabina was forced, but it was the best yoghurt we have ever had. We poured sweet berries and jam over it and found ourselves in yak yoghurt heaven.

Yaks in the way

Those yaks were also living with this family, right outside their doorstep. When Sabina woke up in the middle of the night and had to pee, she went outside to the pit latrine. Only to find four big yaks staring back at her when she opened the door. They were blocking the way and when those huge animals start huffing and growling at you, you don’t continue. You pee on the doorstep, and that’s just what she did.

Kyrgyzstan, a new country

Kyrgyzstan welcomed us with one of the most beautiful rides on the trip, which ended in one of the most boring ones. We descended about one thousand meters, but it was so gradual and we had a headwind once again, so it still felt like a long day. About 30 kilometers before Sary Tash the mountains disappear. It’s flat empty and boring and for the last part we had to share the road with many trucks all loaded with black coal.

A hero named Sandy

We had a rest day, and added one extra for the snow that fell. The ATM in Sary Tash had decided to not give us any cash. We didn’t have any US dollars left to exchange for Kyrgyz currency and we still had to survive for at least two days to reach Osh. And as so many times before on this trip, right when we thought we were in real trouble we were saved.

Our hero this time went by the name of Sandy. She and her lovely Australian group were staying in the same guesthouse as we were. They were on an amazing journey, traveling from Beijing to Istanbul all over land. They tried to convince us we had to come and cycle in Australia. The nature is beautiful after all, filled with amazing wild life. Like human devouring crocodiles for instance, boxing kangaroos and a wide variety of attacking birds that like to go straight to the eye. Maybe next year..

The final stretch

By the skin of our teeth we cycled three more days. Trucks kept offering us rides, but we insisted on cycling this final stretch. Two hundred kilometers, two thousand horses next to the road, and two camp spots later we had made it. We were in Ош (Osh, Kyrgyzstan). Ready to eat burgers, drink coffee, go to the super market, act like tourists at the bazar and off course get food poisoning straight away.

We did it. Round of applause.

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28 December 2019
The Pamir Highway – Part III

Our third week on the Pamir Highway led us through the famous Wakhan corridor. A historical, remote and beautiful region, with only a river separating Tajikistan from Afghanistan. We passed old ruins, military bases and wheat fields, and everyone we met greeted us with a smile and a heartfelt invitation for chai.

After a week of recuperating from severe food poisoning and exhaustion, it was finally time to leave Khorog. Despite Robins illness we had feasted on all exciting cuisines the university town had to offer. By our normal standards we hadn’t been to impressed by MacDolands, Khorog Fried Chicken, a mediocre Indian restaurant and a simple coffee bar. But for us after a few weeks of deprivation of these luxuries, it all seemed Michelin-worthy. Except for the burger at MacDolands, that one was just as terrible as to be expected.

Whakan mindset

Khorog is also the turn-off for the Wakhan corridor. Our Belgian friend Frederik had departed a few days before us, only to return the same day after a flat. It had him completely loose his motivation to continue. James, who had taken the main road a few days earlier, had also reported that the roads on the M41 were dreamy. We however had our minds set on the Wakhan, so terrible roads or not. We were doing this.

The little topographer

Expecting the worst, we were quite surprised by the quality of the road the first few days. Also the lack of shops wasn’t at all as bad as portrayed. We passed small villages, only with more kilometers in between them as before. Locals still invited us in for tea, and served us entire feasts with fruit, cake and bread and home made kefir. Despite not being able to understand each others language we tried communicating. Once when we told a family we are from the Netherlands, we asked the kid if he knew it. Usually we get an ahaaa, which pretty much always means not a single clue. But this clever kid walked to his big map he had on a wall and pointed at our tiny little country without hesitating. Very impressive!

A stupa and Yamchun Fort

We cycled along wheat fields, where the Pamiris still harvest by hand. A labor-intensive task which seemed to involve half the town. Tucked into the mountainside was an ancient Buddhist stupa, we decided to visit. A small squad of young girls showed us to the ruins. It wasn’t much more than a pile of rocks to be honest, so we hoped for more at the next ruin site we visited.

The Yamchun Fort didn’t disappoint. Most likely because of three armed soldiers setting the tone, exiting the fort after a patrol, just before we entered. The fort is located on the modern-day border between Tajikistan and Afghanistan, overlooking the Wakhan Valley, and large sections of the Afghan Hindu Kush mountains. The fort was build between 300 and 100 BC and we were impressed by its state, given the harsh environment.

Military bases

By now we seemed to pass military bases as frequent as small towns, but we never felt unsafe. The soldiers patrolled the widening river along the border and they greeted us and we greeted them. Before we entered Ishkashim we heard gun shots for the first time. It was broad day light, so it was probably just an exercise, as no one seemed to care.

Bread magic

If you ever pass by Ishkashim, buy bread. Buy heaps of bread. There’s a small bakery where they hand you the big round flat breads straight out of the oven. We had to be careful we didn’t burn our hands. We bought three big ones, and they lasted us for days. And the last piece tasted almost as fresh as it had just been baked. Bread magic.

Our egg container had also proved to be worth while. We could easily find eggs in every little town, so it was eggs for lunch every day. We must have devoured at least a hundred eggs in this country.

War zone

After Ishkashim we found a camp site on the bed of the river. We washed in the icy cold water and huddled in the tent after sunset. All of a sudden we noticed a strong flashlight shining in to our camp from the other side of the river. A little later, we could see the flashlight moving from time to time. We could also see bright flashes lighting up the entire sky, but obviously coming from very far away. It was rather eery, not knowing what this was. We knew the situation in Afghanistan had become more unstable, because the Afghan market in Ishkashim had been cancelled earlier that week. We decided to turn down our lights and just go to sleep.

Afghan and Pakistan mountains

The next morning the Wakhan woke up as nothing had happened. Farmers were working on their fields, kids were playing and we were cycling past it all. A few kilometeres after a town called Shitkarv the road also turned shit. The landscape became more arid between towns and it was harder to escape the unforgiving sun and strong winds. There was one particular long gradual climb on a terrible surface, but with an ever rewarding panorama on the Afghan and Pakistan mountains.

The dreadful Khargush pass

Every now and then we meet a (hitch)hiker or other cyclist coming from the other way. They all warn us for the upcoming Khargush pass. They say it will take us at least three days to push our bikes up. Cycling is out of the question, it’s impossible they say. In Langar we stay at a guesthouse with two guys we met in Khorog, Kobe and François. They cycled the Bartang Valley and were on their way back to Dushanbe. We loved Kobe’s story, how he just bought a bike in Kyrgyzstan and hand made panniers from plastic jerrycans.

The Khargush pass kept worrying us and Kobe’s and François’ report about it didn’t calm our nerves. We were both pretty exhausted and were not feeling pushing our bikes for days. So we chickened out, we got a ride instead. It actually turned out great. The views from the car were amazing, we loved just soaking it all in. The car broke down of course, but that only gave us more time to enjoy the scenery. Thirty minutes later we were on our way again, to be dropped off at the highest point of the pass.

Dreamy asphalt

We cycled for about 25 kilometers on the worst road so far and pushed our bikes through deep sand. Not having had to endure the climb of the Khargush we were both having so much fun. We literally bounced on the road, enjoying the washboard way too much. It was hilarious. When the asphalt of the M41 was back in sight, we decided it would be the perfect place to pitch our tent. Dreaming of smooth roads we fell asleep.

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20 December 2019
The Pamir Highway – Part II

The stretch between Qal’ai Khumb and Khorog was only 240 kilometers. But with bike issues, military visits and patients along the road it was a very eventful couple of days.

There are a million amazing camp spots on the Pamir, but some days it seemed nearly impossible to find one. We were locked in between the river and the mountains that formed a high wall next to the road. The only flat grassy area was right next to the road, but after clearing some of the dried up cow droppings we made it work.

Wheel of disaster

Happy to be cycling as a group we set off the next morning. Daniel noticed a wobbly wheel, so we stopped to check it out. Thats when disaster struck. He had broken a spoke on his rear wheel, and needed to replace it. Everything that could possibly go wrong happened. His derailleur pad snapped and the cage bent while he was trying to take the cassette off.

We will rock you

We found a small shop where we could borrow some tools. With a lead pipe, our cassette tool and Daniels chain, Robin and Daniel managed to finally get the cassette off to replace the spoke. Of course a big group of local kids (plus one old man) found all of this very interesting. They all wanted to see what these strange people where doing in their little town. Thea was great at distracting them from the guys, by teaching them the We will rock you dance and her signing (not singing), which she does as a profession.

Military camping

With 32 kilometers it was just a short day, but we were rewarded with a great camp spot. Next to the road, down by the river was a flat area with some trees and enough flat grass to pitch our tent. Across the road was also a military base camp, so before we pitched our tent we checked with them if it was okay. We knocked on the big green door and a small hatch opened.

In our best Russian (read by saying palatka, tonight, sleep, okay, yes? and putting two thumbs up with a big smile) we explained the situation. Every time the hatch would close and open again with a bigger hat to hear our request. Eventually we figured out it was no problem. We even asked them to charge our power banks and Wahoo’s and that was fine too.

How we ride

It was a beautiful starry night. Daniel and Thea celebrated their successful bicycle repair with a camp fire. We sat around the fire and talked about how and why we travel. About the choices we make and how they affect us. Should we be hard or easy on ourselves. Fight or bend. Give in or soldier on. Hitch or ride. Amongst many cyclists there is a feeling you should cycle everything. Even the extremely hard or absolutely boring parts that don’t give joy in any way. After all we chose to go bicycle touring right? We even get comments about hitchhiking a 400k desert stretch from strangers on Facebook. ‘Cycle all the way or go backpacking’.

But why? We are doing this because we are cutting ourselves slack. Not following the typical life path that fits in a consumers market. Yes we went to college and got a job. For us however, the next step wasn’t a mortgage and first a dog, then a baby. We chose to do it in our own way. It isn’t necessary to do difficult things just because it’s in your expected path. You can certainly choose to, but you don’t have to. To each his own.

Fully charged

Thankfully most reactions we get are positive, no matter if we ‘cheat’ sometimes. People are curious about our daily life, always on the road. How we cook and how we sleep. So were the soldiers that came to check up on us, scaring us a bit when they emerged from the smoke from our camp fire holding their big rifles. They too, just wanted to see what we were up to. These weird cyclists next to their base. The next morning they came again, this time with our fully charged devices.

Four becomes five

At our first snack stop, we see a familiair bicycle outside a restaurant. Immediately after we saw the owner, James from the UK. Our other roommate at Green House in Dushanbe. He had set off a few days before us together with Frederik from Belgium. They were quick fast, so we hadn’t expected to see them again. They had both fallen sick and had a few days of recovery in Qal’ai Khumb. James had opted for a fancy hotel and recovered before Fred, so he had continued but only to find himself sick in this little town again.

Luckily the restaurant owner took care of him and he was just about to get on his way when we cycled along. We loved cycling in a group, so we were happy to add James to our little cycling quartet. Four had now become five.

Popping panniers

Sharing stories distracted us a bit from the terrible road conditions. It kept going up and down all day long and you had to focus on the road to avoid the big rocks. At one point Sabina’s panniers even decided they’d had enough of it and completely gave in. The glued seam had popped open, probably due to all the bouncing and the hot sun melting it. We had just stopped with some overlanders we’d met previously in Green House Dushanbe. With their help we taped them back together, so they would hopefully last until Khorog.

SIM scam

We all rode at a slightly different pace, but that didn’t matter. We would always wait for each other at the small shops. We had to fill up on water, and of course eat a million Snickers bars and gallons of ice cream. In Rushon we had a special mission. Our SIM cards had stopped working after only ten days, even though the employee had promised us a month. We had tried to address it in Qal’ai Khumb, but they didn’t want to help us and simply closed the store. In Rushon they weren’t of much help either. We agreed with the lady that we would get new SIM cards, but then all of a sudden she wanted us to pay the full amount for a whole month again.

Stealing SIM cards

After at least forty-five minutes of going back and forth we decided we had enough. As James and Robin where just starting a tea party across the street, we decided to leave with our new SIM cards. The lady said she was calling the police, so that tea party had to be cut short. We cycled out of that town as fast as we could, constantly looking over our shoulders. For obvious reasons the SIM cards where deactivated immediately and the coppers never showed. It was a big waste of time, and of a tea party too.

Khorog in sight

As Khorog was getting closer and closer, the roads where also starting to improve. Just one more night and one more day of riding before we could finally rest. It was much needed, because Robin was feeling worse by the day. Sabina and James insisted on camping on a sand bank, where they’d hoped to find some shelter from the wind. We carried the bikes down and pitched our tents in the sand. The pegs didn’t get any grip in the sand so James’ tent almost ended up in Afghanistan if Robin hadn’t sprinted after it and caught it.

We saw a truck pass by with Frederiks bike on it, so we knew we would see him again in Khorog. One more thing to look forward to. That and coffee of course.

The Pamir Lodge

The last stretch to Khorog we cycled with just the two of us. The road had truly become a road again and we felt like we had cycled back into civilization. We passed the airport with a cow on the landing strip. There are no flights anymore since Aeroflot suspended the flight to Dushanbe in 2017. This was the only route on which Aeroflot paid its pilots danger money.

As we finally cycled into the city we saw Fred. He had just been to the hospital and was given some medicine and they’d ran multiple tests. He was staying at the same hostel we wanted to go. The Pamir Lodge is the place to be for cyclists. We have no idea who came up with this, because it is only reachable by a ridiculously steep road. It felt so mean.

Hospitalized

The Pamir Lodge was a good place to stay and to meet other cyclists. Unfortunately Robin was only feeling worse and after a few days of only getting sicker, Sabina made him go to the hospital. Within ten minutes he was seen by an English speaking doctor and she immediately admitted him to the emergency room. He was completely dehydrated and needed to get fluids asap.

With a bag full of medicine, dietary advice and supplements we were sent on our way the same day. Now it was time to recover and that needed time. The hardest part was after all still to come.

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21 November 2019
Cycling The Pamir Highway – Tajikistan, Dushanbe to Qal’ai Khumb
The Pamir is adventure cyclists paradise. We spent a month in the beautiful landscapes of Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan. We cycled the legendary Ak-Baital pass (4.655 m) and followed the Panj river separating Tajikistan with Afghanistan. The northern route was rugged but beautiful and the Wakhan Corridor offered us a unique insight in Tajik culture and hospitality.

Immediately as we began cycling into Tajikistan, the mountains appeared. The agricultural landscape of Uzbekistan made place for small towns on steep hills. We had been warned about the overly enthusiastic children, greeting us right from the start. And the warnings had not been in vain.

Camp sites

It took us three days to reach Dushanbe and a couple hundred kids yelling high five. We had been cycling on flat lands the last months, so the mountains gave us a proper exercise. This new country also offered more interesting camp sites. We set up camp at small farms and in an apple tree orchard.

The tunnel of Death

The road leading up to Dushanbe is pretty good, and had only one truly challenging climb in it. The climb up to the Anzob tunnel is long and steep, and we cycled there during the hottest hour of the day. The tunnel is also known as the ‘tunnel of Death’, so we knew we had to hitchhike through it. It’s a good thing we did, because it was pitch black for 5 km and the air was terribly polluted. Little did we know, that after the tunnel there were another 18 or so! Most of them were pretty short, but the one immediately after the big tunnel still gave Sabina the shivers.

Breezy downhill

After the tunnel, the ride to Dushanbe was a breeze. Or at least it was supposed to be, a strong headwind still had us pedaling, even going downhill. We did still manage to ride our first century (100 km) on the trip. At the Green House hostel we were greeted by so many cyclists. All of them heading to the Pamir, or just having finished.

Which route?

The biggest question at Green House was ‘which route are you taking?’. There are a few options to get from Dushanbe to Osh. All of them with different difficulty levels. To start, we had to choose the northern or southern road. Northern was more challenging but had better views. The southern road was easier, but also had more traffic. After days of going back and forth we decided to go for the northern road.

Our original plan was to cycle the Wakhan corridor, a challenging route. At Green House many people told us the Bartang was even more beautiful. It’s a shortcut from Rushon to Karakol, so we would have missed out on the high plateau. We played with the idea to do both, but unfortunately never got the chance.

Start of a lifetime adventure

After a weeks rest it was finally time to start this once in a lifetime adventure. We set off together with a French father and son on their super lightweight gravel bikes. The road condition was perfect. At the end of the day, having cycled 90 km we had an awesome descent. We couldn’t find a camp spot next to the road, but a kind family had a souvenir shop and they let us sleep in it for the night. The next morning Sabina woke up with a terrible cold. Cycling downhill after sunset with sweaty clothes was probably to blame.

We decided to continue, and the road was still pretty okay. Our French friends were a lot faster than us, so they texted us with some info about the road ahead. At the crossroads of the old and new road, they warned us to take the new road. We quote ‘if you want to avoid a big argument with each other, take the new road’. They had just built the new road, and it had two huge climbs on gruelling gravel. Halfway up the second climb a convoy of officials passed us, and Sabina asked them if they wanted to lighten our bicycles by taking some panniers to the top. Why not the whole bike, they offered. It was hot, it was hard, and we happily took their offer.

Red dirt road

After the drop-off the paved road made place for red coloured dirt. The track took us along the edge of a beautiful green valley. We were beat at the end of the day. In a small town we tried to find a clear water stream and could see a tap at a doctors point behind a fence. A soldier saw us looking and offered to jump over the fence to fill our bottles. When we asked about his job, he smiled awkwardly and said ‘oh no, why you ask’. It was top secret. He pointed us to a family and told us to ask if we could spend the night there. We obliged and the family was happy to take us in.

Sabina was still not feeling fully recovered from that first day and the road conditions were only deteriorating. The ride to Tavildara was for us brutal, so we decided to find a hotel and recover for a bit. We got Sabina some undefinable medicine, which actually helped pretty well.

‘Not for cyclists’

The road after Tavildara was similar to the previous two days. Beautiful but hard. Someone at the hotel had advised us to take a different road, because of a landslide. Later when we looked on iOverlander, we noticed that the road had been bookmarked ‘beautiful road, not for cyclist’. It was nearly impossible to cycle, and we had to push our bikes up trough deep gravel and stones. At one point we were even overtaken by a guy walking, holding a pitchfork. Robins shoes didn’t survive this suffering and to be honest we ourselves barely did. After only 38 km but 1406 m elevation, we called it a day. We were rewarded with a beautiful sunset and an amazing camp spot.

Bataham pass

After such a hard day we only wanted to get to the top of the pass. Cycling was impossible at this point due to the road conditions. The only car that passed was way too small to fit us and the bikes, but the Tajik are resourceful and after some dis- and reassembling of the bikes and the car, we had a ride to the top. On our way we passed Adrien from France and Daniel and Thea from Scandinavia whom we had met before in Dushanbe and Uzbekistan. We decided to wait for them, so we could all cycle together.

Descending to Qal’ai Khumb

The descent to Qal’ai Khumb was breathtaking. Robins brakes malfunctioned, but Daniel taught us how to adjust them on the spot. We were loving the views and had a big smile plastered on our face the whole ride. It was almost a shame it had to come to an end.

In Qal’ai Khumb we could stock up on some groceries in a decent European style supermarket, and we camped a few kilometers outside the city together with Daniel and Thea. This was also where the road collided with the river separating Tajikistan from Afghanistan. A river we were to follow for the entire Wakhan corridor, giving us a peak inside the life on the Afghan side.

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10 November 2019